


A Thirst for Knowledge

by mustangcandi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Episode Style, Episode Typical Het, Gen, Mild Language, Mini Big Bang Challenge, Sexual References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6124915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustangcandi/pseuds/mustangcandi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 11 Monster of the Week Episode: Winchesters in the bunker, in the Impala, Sam in the shower (and he’s not alone), solving a small town mystery.  Lots of brotherly banter, and plenty of pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [Sam Winchester Big Bang](http://samwinchesterbigbang.tumblr.com/) (@Tumblr). This is designed to read like you're watching an episode from Season 11, after Episode 11.04 "Baby" but before Episode 11.09 "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?" Any similarities to events that have happened in the second half of Season 11 are purely coincidental (this work was 75% finished and submitted as a draft to the Admins before SPN returned in January.) Thank you to my beta, [julietm](http://archiveofourown.org/users/julietm/pseuds/julietm). And a GINORMOUS thank you goes to [foolscapper](http://foolscapper.tumblr.com/) (@Tumblr) for the AMAZING art created for this fic (found [here](http://foolscapper.livejournal.com/18699.html).)
> 
> November 7 Update: Fic is now in chapter format by scene for easier reading. Sorry for the construction work!

**Men of Letters’ Bunker  
Lebanon, Kansas**

Sam crossed his ankles as he pulled his chin above the bar, marking the event with an audible “four” before he carefully lowered himself closer to the ground. He hung from the bar by sheer force of will, glancing upward and wondering if he could get one more in before his shoulder gave him grief. It had been a year since that demon injured the area, leaving him in a sling for several weeks. He still had to be careful when he did certain things, and working out was one of those things. Thinking of that demon, he opted for one more pull. He could do this. 

He pulled himself with effort this time for that fifth rep of lifting his own weight from the ground above the chin-up bar in the weight room of the bunker. As he dropped to the ground, and smiled up at his victory over that bar, he had to admit: given its construction in 1935, the Men of Letters put a lot of thought into this part of the bunker. Yes, they were learned men, but they also knew they needed to be strong to fight the evils in the world. The only upgrade Sam had made was a motorized treadmill. He had more fun running circles around the bunker, up and down the levels, as he could, but sometimes it was easier to hit the treadmill to get his workout finished for the day.

He took a long draw from his water bottle before he moved to stretch his arms, one across his chest, and then the other – again being mindful of that tinge in his shoulder that let him know when he’d gone too far. 

Next – pushups, then sit-ups, then a little yoga, and he’d be set for the day. He’d only dropped to the floor and pushed himself up once – engaging his abdominal muscles to make the transition smooth when Dean joined him in the training room. Dean being in the gym could only mean one of two things: Dean had found a case, or the end of the world was finally coming.

“You sicken me,” Dean said, turning his nose up at the sight of shirtless Sam, pushing up and down from the ground.

“Case it is then,” Sam smiled to himself and waited for his brother to let him know where he wanted them to go. “A workout now and then wouldn’t kill you, Dean.”

“It might,” Dean answered and shook his head, moving to sit on one of the free weight benches. “Can you stop doing that for five minutes while I tell you about this case I think I found us?”

“Nope,” Sam replied and continued his morning routine counting “thirty-two” in his mind. “Just tell me.”

“Weird death at a technical college in Goodland.”

“Define weird?” Sam asked with exertion in his voice as he completed his fiftieth push-up and finally lowered himself to the ground a final time. He rolled onto his back, and lay flat for a few deep breaths with his hands resting on his bare stomach. He turned his head to look at Dean, bending his knees with his feet flat on the floor to give his back some relief but also to get ready to begin the next leg of his workout.

“Seems the kid was paralyzed before getting axed,” Dean replied, leaning against his hand on his thigh.

“Even for us, that’s a stretch, Dean,” Sam said and began curling his body upward to his knees – hands tucked behind his head now. “The kid… probably took… some bad drugs… cooked in… the chem lab,” he spoke between sit-ups.

“They don’t have a lab.”

“The cafeteria then,” Sam grunted.

“Come on, Sammy. We’ve been cooped up here for days, Goodland is three hours away, so what would it hurt to check it out? Hell if any of us have anything on finding God’s pain in the ass little sister so we might as well hunt something… even if it’s just a good pie.”

Sam fell back onto the floor, finishing his set of sit-ups and looked again to his brother. “TripAdvisor,” Dean answered his brother’s unasked question. “Says they have over 20 varieties at this On the Bricks Café.”

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “All right. Let me finish this, and we’ll go.”

“Not before you shower. You stink of ass sweat,” his brother faked a gag, walking out of the room. “We’re wheels out in an hour,” he called back into the gym and Sam again shook his head. 

He rolled back onto his stomach to move into downward facing dog pose, and inhaled deeply. He instantly regretted it, hating it when his brother was right. He did stink. Jesus, he thought and closed his eyes to keep them from watering before he finished his stretches.


	2. Chapter 2

**Homesteader Motel  
Outskirts of Goodland, Kansas**

Sam leaned against the hood of the Impala while he waited for Dean to get back with the room keys. He looked down the stretch of motel rooms, wondering what décor they’d find when they opened the door. He studied the flat landscape, the single story structure lined up in a row, and he guessed disco themed. He’d been in enough of these holes that a place called the Homesteader in Kansas, near the border of Colorado, certainly wouldn’t go old west/early settler themed. They’d go the exact opposite to make a statement. 

When Dean tossed him the key to the room and moved to the back seat to dig out the bags, Sam walked into the room and smiled to no one. Yup. Disco. Complete with disco glitter ball light fixture hanging over the small table by the window in the front of the room as he entered. The carpet was large brightly colored tiles, laid out in a checker pattern to match that of an illuminated club floor. The beds were covered in dark linens, and there were glitter lamps by the beds. To separate the table/makeshift desk from the rest of the room, multi-colored beaded strings hung from the ceiling as the divider. Sam knew he didn’t have to look up to know what he’d find, but he looked anyway, and he shook his head. Sure enough, there were mirrors on the ceiling. “Classy,” he said out loud, chuckling as he tossed his bag on the bed furthest from the door before Dean came through the doorway.

“Man, we have got to start staying at some classier joints,” Dean said after his first sight of the place. “No wonder it gets harder to explain that you and I are brothers and we need the room for the whole night and not just by the hour.”

Sam chuckled again, and nodded in agreement. “So where do you want to start?”

“Well, I was thinking we get in our suits and I drop you off at the Sheriff’s office while I hit up the hospital and the morgue,” Dean answered, lifting his eyebrows up and down with suggestion.

“Oh, no. Not this time.”

“Come on, Sammy. All those nurses and doctors in scrubs? Mmm. It’s a veritable adult playground.”

“And that’s exactly why you’re going to the sheriff and I’ll take the hospital and the morgue. The faster we prove this is nothing, the sooner we can get back to the bunker and to our real job of finding Amara.”

“Okay, Captain Buzzkill. But hey, when you’re at the hospital, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Yeah, short list there, Dean.” Sam grimaced, peeling out of his flannel. “Let’s meet back here, and see what we’ve got. And you… get some food on the way back.”

“Do I look like a pizza delivery guy to you?”

“Shut up, and bring back some food.”

Sam heard Dean’s mocking tone as his brother repeated his words back at him, disappearing into the bathroom to change.


	3. Chapter 3

**Homesteader Motel  
Outskirts of Goodland, Kansas  
Four Hours Later**

“Dammit, Sammy,” Dean cursed under his breath, juggling the items in his hands and digging in his jacket for the key to the motel room after his brother didn’t come to the door when he knocked. Sam also hadn’t answered the phone when he’d called. Dean’s big brother senses weren’t telling him anything was wrong yet, so he’d wait a bit longer before he tore up Goodland to find Sam. If he ever got into the motel room with the lunch Sam requested, he’d eat first… shoot later. After all, pie was on the line.

After a valiant attempt to thwart him in his mission, Dean defeated the motel door and closed it behind him with a swift kick from his boot. “Sammy?!” he barked, setting the plastic bags with the take out on the small table in the room. There was still no answer, but when he wasn’t rattling plastic, Dean heard the sound of the shower running. “OK, one mystery solved,” Dean said to no one as he dug through the bags to find the pie he’d been thinking about since he saw it in the display case at the café in town. Looking from his pie, to the closed bathroom door, the corner of Dean’s lip curled up smugly. Sam obviously needed a shower after being at the morgue. Dead bodies had a funny way of making a mess when you went poking at them to reveal the secrets within, and as Dean looked at his pie again, he was glad Sam sent him to the sheriff’s office instead.

While he waited for his brother to join him, Dean pulled up a chair and opened his pie. Closing his eyes at the taste of his first oversized bite, Dean sighed and reflected on his love of this particular baked good. The three hour drive was completely worth it for the deliciousness he was currently experiencing, supernatural case be damned.

His pie was nothing more than crumbs and Sam was still in the shower. Dean tilted his head and wondered what his brother was doing in there that long. Dean knew what _he’d_ be doing in there that long so he probably didn’t actually want to know what Sam was doing, but he did need to talk to his brother about the sheriff and the suspicious activity in this town.

Figuring Sam had plenty of alone time, he walked over to the bathroom door and pounded on it. “Sammy! Come on. Any longer and you’ll go blind. Shake it off and let’s go!”

He thought he heard a thud or maybe it was a grunt in answer. Dean’s face contorted in both pride and disgust as he walked away, deciding to talk through the door above whatever was going on behind it.

“It doesn’t look like anything supernatural, according to the sheriff. But he was hiding something, Sam,” he bellowed so Sam could hear above the shower. “There’s definitely something suspicious because I asked around and there’s another hunter in town.”

Dean eyeballed Sam’s pie sitting on the table and shook his head. Sam hadn’t eaten yet so the least he could do was save his brother a piece, even if he picked out one of the apples. Sam wouldn’t miss just one.

“Shelby. His name is Shelby. What kind of parent names their son Shelby? And how does that kid become a hunter? It’s a wonder he survived grade school without a permanent wedgy.”

He laughed at his own joke and thought he heard a laugh from behind the door, shaking his head again at how long it seemed to be taking Sam to get out of the bathroom.

“Sammy…” he hollered and knocked on the door again, only this time it opened and he found himself staring at the face of someone who was very obviously not his brother. 

First of all, she was a she. And a total knock out. That was the first thought he had as he looked into sapphire blue eyes and hair that was probably a dark red when it was dry but now it was almost black, still wet as it fell down around her shoulders – curling this way and that. Her lips were… he wanted to say pouty but he was pretty sure they were swollen from whatever happened in that shower given she stood there in no more than a towel, matching Sam’s attire from where he stood behind her.

She was tall. Almost as tall as him, maybe 6 foot, and Dean had to bite back a chuckle at the thought that popped into his head. He’d share that with Sam later though because he wasn’t laughing as he let his eyes scan down the rest of her. He actually groaned, thinking she had legs that went on for days and curves in all the right places. She wasn’t petite by any stretch of the imagination. Even though there was a softness to her skin, and to all the parts of the body where a woman needed to be soft, Dean knew he wouldn’t have picked a fight with her on his best day. And that fact made her even more attractive. He wasn’t sure whether he was proud of his brother or if he absolutely hated his guts with jealousy, but he’d figure that out later. For now, he turned on his charming smile and extended his hand.

“Hi. Dean. Dean Winchester. And you are?”

“Shelby,” she answered, ducking around him and exiting the bathroom to pick up her clothes that Dean somehow failed to notice next to Sam’s bed.

He caught a scent of the shampoo from her hair and closed his eyes before that name registered in his mind and his eyes widened in near panic. He looked at his brother and knew instantly Sam wasn’t going to save him this time, judging from the smug smile Sam wore with that towel.

Chuckling, he turned toward the rest of the room and asked, “Shelby, huh? Shelby like… Steel Magnolias?”

He watched her turn to him and thought her smile was wicked even as she walked back to stand in front of him with Sam still watching the scene with interest from behind them.

“Shelby like the mustang, but I think it’s adorable you made a chick flick reference,” she smiled with a pat of her hand against his cheek before she looked over Dean to Sam. “I’ll see you around, Sammy,” she winked and then turned to walk out of the motel room, still wearing only her towel.

Both Sam and Dean watched her go, tilting their heads to the side in the way only brothers could do as they admired the sashay of her hips and those legs that went on for miles all the way out the door. As soon as it closed behind her, as though snapped out of his trance, Dean looked back at his brother – eyes wide in confusion and awe. There were hundreds of questions he wanted to ask, maybe even millions, but they all centered on what he missed since he left that morning?

He was distracted from his questions by noticing teeth marks in his brother’s shoulder, knowing in this business that was never a good thing – especially when it came to Sam’s taste in women. Demons and werewolves and now… probably vampires? “Christ Sammy, did she bite you??” Dean asked, trying not to jump to conclusions as he reached out to inspect the wound and his brother backed away from him.

“Let’s just say you interrupted at the exact wrong moment and she had to do something to stay quiet,” Sam said with a mischievous grin, closing the bathroom door in Dean’s face and leaving Dean alone with his questions of what the hell just happened and how the hell had it happened to Sam instead of him?


	4. Chapter 4

**Homesteader Motel  
Outskirts of Goodland, Kansas**

Sam sat across from Dean at the table in the motel room, carefully chewing the sandwich his brother brought him, surprised with every bite that it was mostly vegetables. Dean actually did listen… occasionally anyway. 

Neither brother was speaking, with Dean eyeing Sam with a grin on his face that even sucking on his beer couldn’t hinder. And Sam wasn’t going to talk about the reason his brother was smiling at him like that. The awkward silence between them was disrupted only by the sounds of Sam chewing and Dean slurping his beer until Sam finished his sandwich.

“You want to talk about the case or not?” he asked, wiping his fingers with a thin brown paper napkin before he wiped his mouth. He stared at Dean across the table while his brother continued to smile, making Sam roll his eyes.

“I’d rather talk about what happened since I left you at the hospital, but you’re not giving me much to work with,” Dean chuckled, taking another long pull from his beer before he continued. “I talked to the sheriff, and he didn’t bite any of the bait I set out for him, but he was definitely holding something back. Then, of course, there’s the mysterious presence of one Shelby the Supernatural Slayer that makes me think something unusual is happening… something other than my little brother getting lucky.”

“Really?” Sam groaned, tilting his head and decidedly staying on topic. “You’re not wrong about something unusual. When Shelby and I were examining the body at the morgue…”

“I’m sure you had a good time examining _that_ body,” Dean interrupted, wearing a cat who ate the canary grin like he’d been waiting to say that since Sam came back to the room after his shower with the auburn haired vixen.

“Would you stop?”

"Can’t stop, won’t stop,” Dean answered. “Not until you tell me more about how the hell that happened.”

Sam gave an exasperated sigh, leaning back in the chair and looking up to the ceiling.

“Man, she was... tall,” Dean said, trying to get the conversation started. “All I could think when I saw you standing next to each other was Amazonian babies born 3 feet long.”

“Dean!” Sam barked.

“What? You were the one who said just a couple weeks ago something about having something with a hunter… someone who understands the life. Or some other Dr. Phil crap like that,” Dean grunted.

“Drop it.”

“Look, I know you hate when I turn your own words against you… but she was hot. Like, super model on a muscle car eating a cheeseburger and offering you pie hot. Why not?”

“I didn’t get her number.”

“Well, she’s a hunter. She won’t be hard to find.”

“Dean, would you let it go?”

“Come on, Sammy. Trying to have an adult conversation here.”

Sam shot him a derisive look. “I don’t think adult and conversation can ever be used to describe you.”

Dean chuckled and nodded. “I’ll give you that one.”

Silence momentarily returned to the room, with Dean looking at Sam, waiting for him to talk about his adventures since that morning. Dean knew if he gave Sam the side eye long enough, his brother would eventually speak. And Sam knew it too.

“She’s a hunter, Dean. And let’s face it, I haven’t had the best luck with women. It will be a miracle if Shelby lives past next week. The women I sleep with tend to end up dead.”

“Hey, that’s not true. What about Piper from a few cases ago? Or that hippie chick you were getting it on with instead of trying to find me in fairy land? Heck, any number of women you slept with when you were soulless are leading full and healthy lives… I imagine.”

“Please, let it go?”

“All right. But no more lectures for me, if you aren’t going to take your own advice.”

“Fair enough,” Sam agreed and looked out the window at the row of street lights coming alive outside in the parking lot as dusk settled in around them. 

There was another moment of quiet in the room before Dean disrupted it with another question. “Can I ask one more thing?”

Sam grimaced but looked at his brother waiting for Dean to ask what was on his mind. 

“Was she worth it?”

Sam opened his mouth to argue and then the thought of his time with Shelby flashed through his mind, and he grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, she was worth it.”

“That’s my boy,” Dean smiled, and toasted what was left of his beer toward his brother.

Sam shook his head, still smiling with his thoughts of Shelby and taking the first bite of the apple pie in front of him. He actually closed his eyes to enjoy it. While he didn’t have the same affection for pie that Dean did, he could still admire a well-made baked good. And this one was delicious.

“Now, what were you saying about the morgue? I promise… no more jokes about Shelby. God, she was hot.”

“Dean…”

“Well, she was. But seriously. The morgue…”

“Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until Shelby noticed a small puncture wound behind the victim’s ear. I recognized it from the case with Martin in the mental health ward.”

“Wraith?” Dean interjected.

Sam nodded. “That’s what Shelby said too. So we asked to see the brain. The coroner really dragged her feet until we asked her if there was any brain at all. When we said that, she turned white and asked if we’d seen that before, and Shelby and I both nodded. The coroner was a little more apt to talk after that. The brain was missing entirely when they found the body.”

“The sheriff certainly didn’t mention anything about a missing brain,” Dean grimaced, and Sam recognized that look – it was the same look he’d received a time or two when Dean knew he was lying. “Freakin’ wraiths,” Dean shook his head, and rubbed his forehead to loosen the scowl that had formed. “I guess we didn’t waste a trip here after all.”

“It was a good catch, Dean,” Sam agreed, hating to admit his brother was right to drag him away from the bunker that morning. Granted, knowing now that Shelby was in town, she could have handled this. But he wouldn’t have had as much fun. He could admit that to himself at least, he thought with another smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Wait, what about the paralysis?” Dean asked in a moment of recollection about what had brought them here in the first place. “Wraith venom doesn’t normally cause paralysis.”

“I couldn’t figure that part out either. I dug around in dad’s journal, and tried to find anything online, but kept coming up empty. I’ll dig into the archives at the bunker tonight and see what shakes out.”

“A wraith that can paralyze you AND mess with your head? That… that just doesn’t seem fair,” Dean replied, leaning back in his chair now. “Let’s carry mirrors with us to be safe.”

Sam nodded, and watched as Dean stood from the small table in the motel room. The dark of night had settled outside, leaving only the light of the street lamps and the neon glow of the lights advertising the motel.

“Since we can’t do anything tonight, I’m going to find the local bar and see what kind of action I can find,” Dean announced, his eyes full of suggestion.

“Good luck. Pretty sure I found the only action to be had,” Sam smirked in a rare moment of brazen.

“Challenge accepted,” Dean smiled back, picking his coat off the chair and giving his brother a wave as he closed the motel door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Homesteader Motel  
Outskirts of Goodland, Kansas  
The Next Morning**

Sam did exactly as he said he would – he spent the evening researching materials in the Men of Letters’ archive, trying to uncover any hidden mysteries around a wraith that could also paralyze. His only distractions had been, first, missing Charlie Bradbury enough to empty Dean’s flask of whiskey in her honor. After all, Charlie was the reason he was able to research using the resources of the bunker from the power of his laptop no matter where cases took the Winchesters. All he needed was a charged battery if there was no access to an outlet, and a decent wi-fi signal. And the motel had surprisingly amazing wi-fi. The second distraction had been the particularly randy couple that settled in for a few hours in the room behind his bed. Thankfully, they were quick with the activities; however, the activities were numerous and louder with every round. 

By the time the couple retired for the night, Sam was no closer to finding any useful information than when he started. But he was a lot closer to being drunk than he could remember being, so he turned in early (well, early for a hunter anyway.) Given the day he’d had: the workout, the shower, the heavy and late lunch, and the whiskey, he slept like a rock and didn’t need his alarm to wake him at 6:30 am. He woke up naturally, and found his brother in the other bed in the room, alone and in his clothes. 

Sam tried not to laugh, knowing that from the way Dean was passed out, he’d struck out in every aspect of his conquest. There was satisfaction to be had there, Sam thought to no one and then went to get into his workout clothes for his morning run. 

He was pretty sure he’d run the circumference of the town twice before he made his way back to the motel, finding Dean still asleep when he got there. He made a point to slam the door behind him, and enjoyed watching his brother’s head jump as Dean reached for the gun under his pillow.

“Morning, sunshine,” Sam beamed, presenting Dean a tall coffee before he set it on the night stand next to Dean’s bed as his brother settled back into his pillow and tried to get his eyes to open.

“What the hell, man?” Dean groaned, dropping his gun back on the bed and licking his lips in a way someone who’d had too much to drink the night before would do. 

“We have work to do. Figured you needed some motivation.”

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

“It’s genetic,” Sam answered, tilting his head with a mocking smile dancing over his lips. “I’m going to shower and try not to revel in the fact that you very obviously struck out last night, while I… in that very shower… homered. Twice.”

“I hate you,” Dean moaned and covered his head with his pillow.

“Sheriff should be in his office in an hour.”

He heard Dean groan again from under the pillow, before he shot Sam the finger. “And good morning to you too,” Sam chuckled before he made his way for that shower.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sherman County Sheriff’s Office  
Goodland, Kansas**

Dean was looking more like himself after a shower and a breakfast of pie and bacon from the same café from the day before, pulling the Impala into the parking lot of the police department. He put the car in park and looked at Sam beside him. “How do you want to handle this?”

“Since he didn’t meet me yesterday, why don’t you let me try to get the information out of him?” Sam suggested, knowing Dean was far more likely to be aggressive now that he knew the sheriff was withholding information.

“Be my guest,” Dean said, gesturing toward the station before he opened the driver side door to exit the car. Sam followed his brother out of the car, fastening his suit jacket as he walked. He quickly took the lead with his longer gait, and opened the door.

Both brothers were greeted by the sweet voice of the office manager sitting at the front desk of the station. “Can I help you?”

“Cindy, sweetheart, how are you today?” Dean beamed, turning on his charming smile as he leaned closer to the desk before Sam could speak.

Sam watched the face of the office manager flush with color as she smiled. He looked at his brother and back to the older woman at the desk – a woman who was very much married and very much a grandmother, judging from the pictures on her desk that were decorated in a child’s hand writing with the word “Nana.”

“Agent Nicks, so good to see you again. What brings you back, and who’s this tall drink?” Cindy asked, looking Sam up and down over her bifocal glasses.

“This is my partner, Agent Sam Joplin. He had a couple more questions for the Sheriff, since he was across town in a different steamy situation yesterday when I was here.”

Sam shot Dean a look that said he would have punched him if they weren’t trying to be professional. “Sheriff in yet?” Dean asked, giving his brother a wink and a smile and then turning that smile back to Cindy.

Cindy looked over her shoulder, and her smile diminished. “He’s in one hell of a mood today. Don’t suppose you boys could keep it from getting worse, if I let you go back there, could you?”

“Scouts’ honor,” Dean said, standing taller and giving the Boy Scout salute.

Cindy laughed at that. “You’re as much a scout as I am a gymnast, sonny. Go on back. He’s in his office.”

“You may not be a gymnast, but you are a gem, Cindy,” Dean grinned at the lady again and watched as she laughed, shaking her head at his antics as the brothers made the way back through the station.

“And here I thought you didn’t get any action yesterday,” Sam teased, under his breath so that only his brother could hear. “Cindy is one hot mama… a hot _grand_ mama.”

“Shut up,” Dean coughed, his smile fading as he led Sam to the sheriff’s office. The door was open, so the boys could see the sheriff barking at someone on the phone. He met Dean’s eyes and his scowl deepened, but he motioned for the pair to come in and close the door.

When the sheriff finished the call, he leaned back in his chair and Sam took in the sight of him. Sam was used to dealing with small town male sheriff’s that were overweight, with bellies hanging over the belt that held the side arm, cuffs, and flashlight required by the job. These small town officers of the law were also usually pale white with large bushy mustaches. Yes, Sam knew he was over generalizing, but he’d met enough of these sheriffs in his time to know his mental image wasn’t too far from the truth. This sheriff was the exact opposite in every way. He was large, but physically fit. His deep dark skin was pulled taut over a body that was trained by the military and maintained by strict discipline. He was clean shaven, from the top of his head down his neck. Everything about Sheriff Joe Reese screamed military, right down to the precision of placement of all the objects on the man’s desk. And Sam knew from all those cues that he wasn’t going to easily extract information from the man in front of him, but he was going to have to try.

“What can I do for you this morning, Agents?” Sheriff Reese asked, his voice deeper and smoother than the voice he used on the phone. While Sam looked him over, the seasoned professional had clearly deduced Sam was Dean’s bureau partner.

“Sheriff, I’m Agent Joplin. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Cut to the chase, Agent. I’ve got a busy morning.”

“All right,” Sam began, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “My partner tells me you aren’t telling us everything you know about this murder. And I know you’re not considering you left out the detail about the victim’s brain.”

Both Winchesters caught the way Sheriff Reese flinched at the mention of the brain before they decided to take seats across from him.

“I figured KBI would be back in my office when Maggie from the coroner’s called me and told me you asked about that little detail we left out of the papers,” he sighed and stretched his large hand across his forehead from temple to temple, massaging his pressure points for a moment before he leaned forward to rest his arms on his desk. “I didn’t think we needed your help, but if you were smart enough to figure that out, it tells me you’ve had to deal with something like this before and at this point, I can use all the help I can get.”

“You figured out about the brain being gone, but what you don’t know… we had another case like it this same time last year. Another student, Nicole Bradley – paralyzed before death, brain gone, killed just outside of town. Still unsolved. We never put the detail out about the missing organ, so we don’t think we have a copycat. Whoever killed Nicole seems to have struck again. Goodland is a small town, so we don’t have many out of town visitors and if we do, I know who they are before they cross the city limit. Just like I knew you boys were at the Homesteader two hours before this one showed up in my building,” the sheriff spoke, nodding in Dean’s directions. “I thought the Kansas Bureau of Investigations could afford better than that,” he said, eyebrow raised in question.

“Budget cuts,” Dean quickly answered. 

“Yeah, I know all about those,” Joe replied, looking out his door to his staff.

Sam waited a moment for the sheriff to collect his thoughts before he asked the question on his mind. “Did Nicole and this victim have anything in common? Common friends? Common enemies?”

Sheriff Reese leaned back in his chair again. “They grew up less than a hundred yards from each other, went to the same schools, born two days apart. So yeah, I’d say they had a lot in common. We’re a small town, Agent… Joplin, was it?” he paused for clarification, and waited for Sam’s nod before he continued. “Lots of people have lots of things in common when there are only six thousand people in the whole county.”

“I had to ask,” Sam responded.

“Yeah, I know you did,” Joe sighed again, intertwining his fingers together over his own stomach now. “I guess the only thing they had in common that not everyone has in common around here is… now, God forgive me for what I’m about to say, they both had hearts of gold but neither of them were the sharpest tools in the shed. One of my deputies made the comment that maybe the brains weren’t missing – they’d never been there all this time, if that helps paint you a picture.”

“Yeah, that makes it pretty clear,” Dean agreed and Sam knew his brother was biting back a laugh. He shot him a look that told him now was not the time before Dean sobered.

“They were both students at the technical school and, last week, Casey came to me and told me he didn’t think he was cut out for college. He was trying to be a mechanic; figured it would be his best shot at getting out of Goodland, finding a job, and making a little money. But his grades – he was struggling to make the minimum.”

Sam choked down a lump in his throat knowing college wasn’t easy for everyone like it had been for him, and even he hadn’t finished. Granted, his reason for not finishing had everything to do with his brother beside him and nothing to do with his grades. Keeping that in mind, he made notes in his handheld pad, and then closed the book with a flick of his wrist. He returned the notepad to the inner pocket of his jacket before he stood to his feet, and waited for Dean to follow his lead.

Sam extended his hand across the desk to the Sheriff, and this time the gesture was accepted with a firm handshake. “Sheriff, you’ve been a big help. We’ll do what we can to help you with these cases.”

Dean also shook the sheriff’s hand as he straightened. “If you think of anything else, give me a call. You have my card from yesterday.”

The sheriff nodded and turned to take another phone call.

Sam and Dean said nothing as they left the office, with Dean giving Cindy a parting wink on his way out the door. The brothers walked across the street to where the Impala was parked, but rather than getting in, Sam leaned against the passenger side front tire well. “If this is a wraith, it has been on a serious diet, only feeding twice in a year,” he summarized the thoughts running through his head.

“Twice that we know of anyway,” Dean added, leaning against the front of the car adjacent to his brother.

“True,” Sam agreed. “And what it’s eating is brain matter without a lot of substance judging by what the sheriff said.”

Dean nodded. “I imagine it won’t be another year before it strikes again, and from the sounds of things, students at the college seem a likely target, especially those in danger of flunking out.”

“You want to go to the college? See if the registrar’s office can give us a list of potential students? Maybe we can narrow down who the next target might be, and see if we can figure out who suspects might be from there?”

“Sounds necessary, and completely boring. So, let’s get it over with,” Dean sighed, pushing himself away from the Impala to go and slide into the driver’s side, the familiar creak of the door hinges welcoming him home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Northwest Kansas Technical College  
Registrar’s Office  
Goodland, Kansas**

Dean threw the Impala into park, and looked at the building in front of him through the windshield before he looked at his brother. “Small college. Small town. Something feels wrong about all this, man. Usually people know when something is wrong in a small town before it happens.”

“If anyone knows anything, no one is saying. And the sheriff doesn’t look like the kind of guy you’d want to withhold information from on a good day,” Sam breathed, also looking forward at the building, pondering what they would find when they got in there. Both Winchesters were quiet for a few moments as they pondered the con that was so familiar to them now when they needed information, knowing their credentials were completely bogus.

Sam’s hand was on the door handle before he smiled, “Well, let’s go see if there’s another grandmother in here for you to charm so we can see those grades.”

“Hey, you make fun, but granny’s love this face,” Dean responded and gave Sam his best “blue steel” imitation.

Sam actually managed a laugh, shaking his head as they stepped out of the car and made the way to the administration building, and into the office of the registrar.

Much to Sam’s disappointment, the assistant awaiting them was not a charming grey haired grandmother but instead a very lovely young lady. Sam had heard other people use the phrase “resting bitch face” before but he never really understood it until this moment. He fully supported women being whatever they wanted, not expecting them to always be smiling, but it was more than this woman’s face that was giving off a chill in the room. Her whole demeanor, and posture in her chair seemed to say “eff off, I’m busy.” He looked to his brother, and found Dean smiling from ear to ear. Sam had obviously forgotten his idiot brother enjoyed a challenge. At least Sam could enjoy watching him crash and burn.

“Hello… Robin,” Dean began, pausing to read the name plate at the desk in front of him. The assistant looked at Dean over the top of her glasses that were clearly for fashion and not for function.

“Can I help you?” she droned, her eyes returning to the screen in front of her.

Sam cast another glance at his brother as Dean leaned on the counter of the desk, smiling a smile Sam knew to be knee-weakening to most females, but Robin didn’t seem to notice. He gave his brother a quick smack on the arm before he reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his fake Kansas Bureau of Investigations badge. Dean followed his younger brother’s cue and presented his own credentials. Robin’s expression didn’t change, looking from badge to badge, and then up at the boys in front of her as they tucked the credentials away again.

“We’re looking into the recent death of the student here, and we’re hoping you could let us access the student grades and academic files,” Sam spoke.

“Do you have a warrant?” Robin asked, and her facial expression remained chiseled. 

“Robin, that’s such a great name,” Dean beamed, shifting his weight to lean a little closer over the counter. “Since we’re working on this case with the Sheriff, we don’t need a warrant.”

“According to Kansas and federal regulations, actually, you do,” she replied, and started looking back at her computer, typing in response to an email she’d received.

“Beautiful, and smart too. Impressive combination,” Dean flirted, looking at Robin through his lashes.

“Yeah, my girlfriend thinks so too,” Robin instantly replied without looking away from the computer screen.

Dean’s smile widened momentarily before he sobered. “Like girlfriend-girlfriend? Or giiiiirlfriend?” he asked, and Robin looked back up at him, her face giving him the answer.

“Warrant it is then,” Dean said, all charms tucked away as he pushed himself from the desk. He beckoned Sam to follow him out the door with a nod of his head. Sam offered Robin a grateful smile she didn’t see before he joined his brother outside the building.

The Impala welcomed them back inside, allowing both brothers to relax into the front seat of the car. Sam loosened his tie as they sat there, and Dean rubbed his hands over the wheel.

“What security did you see?” he asked, looking at Sam and knowing while he unsuccessfully flirted with the assistant, his brother had assessed how difficult it would be to come back later with a “warrant” (also known as a lock pick and cable cutters).

“Easy lock to pick, no cameras, rudimentary alarm. Small town, small school, not much budget or need for a fancy system. I should be able to hack into the system without us having to come back here at all.”

“Atta boy,” Dean smiled, pride in his voice as he slid the tie from under his collar and tossed it in the back seat. “How about we change at the motel and then grab a late lunch? I think I’m in the mood for a cream pie this time.”

“Dean? Seriously? Again with the pie?” Sam whined. 

“When in Rome… “Dean grinned, turning the key in the ignition and bringing the Impala to life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Downtown Goodland, Kansas**

“Sammy, check it out,” Dean said, holding up a flyer with one hand and his third piece of pie for the day in the other, his mouth already half full of a large bite. 

Sam and his knitted brows looked up from his computer screen long enough to see what his brother was pointing out to him. “Trivia night? So?” he asked, setting himself back on the task of trying to remotely access the college records.

“So? Hello. Sam. We’re in a small trade college town with not much else to do on a Friday. Trivia night is probably a better way of finding the not-so-bright kid in town than what you’re doing,” Dean sighed, and set the flyer down to more deeply enjoy his time with his chocolate cream pie.

Sam scoffed at his brother’s antics, shaking his head and continuing to work on his current string of code, sure this time he had it.

“Dammit,” he cursed, and pushed back from the table. 

“Trivia night it is then,” Dean suggested, devouring another bite of pie, and giving his brother a wink, knowing how it frustrated Sam when he couldn’t get something like this to work in his favor.

“I can’t figure out what the hell is so complicated about this school’s system. It’s not like they are up on the latest technology,” Sam said and set his fingers back on the keyboard.

“Maybe that’s the problem. They’re old school, and you have to be hard wired into the system to access the records,” Dean pointed out, chasing his chocolate cream pie with a chocolate stout the pretty waitress with the ample behind had offered to him free of charge. He was definitely going to leave her a nice tip, he thought and then noticed Sam was staring at him.

“What?”

“That’s… it. You’re right. The school’s system is outdated and to access it, we are actually going to have to be in the office.”

“You say that like I’m never right, Sammy.”

Sam shrugged, “You usually aren’t.”

“Thanks. Just for that… trivia… me and you. I’ll kick your ass.”

“Doubtful,” Sam smirked, and looked at the flyer again. “First place is a $100 gift card to this café though. Maybe we team up, and work on paying off your pie debt.”

“So good,” Dean answered through his last bite, savoring it in his mouth.

“Trivia it is then,” Sam repeated his brother’s words from earlier. He chuckled as he watched Dean close his eyes, sitting back in the booth and enjoying the beer and pie as the flavors danced on his tongue. Sam knew the only thing that gave him that much satisfaction was a good book when he had time to read. Well, if he were honest, he’d taken quite a bit of satisfaction from the shower he’d had yesterday with the leggy red-head, he thought with a sideways smile. He sobered quickly though before his brother could ask him about the look on his face. He looked out the window, realizing dusk was settling in and pointing it out to Dean. “Better get to the bar before all the good seats are taken. You’re probably right that there’s not much to do in the Sunflower Capital on a Friday night.”

Dean nodded, though his attention was focused again on the waitress. Sam followed his brother’s gaze and admittedly let his gaze linger a little on the view before he snapped back and waved a hand in front of Dean’s face. 

“What? I’m trying to get the check,” Dean argued through a smile that widened when the waitress finally acknowledged his attention. Sam shook his head as was his habit when it came to his brother’s antics, but smiled awkwardly anyway as he watched Dean flirt. Dean paid the check, and offered the waitress his number before Sam led the way out of the café and down the block to the bar hosting trivia night.

Students and town regulars were already filing into the bar when Sam and Dean arrived, waiting their turn in line as the bouncer at the door checked IDs and marked anyone old enough to drink with a paper wristband. Sam made note that the majority of people inside weren’t old enough to enjoy anything harsher than a Coke as he sought out the best vantage point in the bar for the mission at hand. Sam generally had a good vantage point wherever he went, towering above the crowd, but the hunter in him also required all entrances and exits to be in view. Dean joined him inside and was scouting the room, but Sam knew from the look on his brother’s face, it wasn’t for the case. Dean was seeking the closest way to a beer and a pretty smile. “Go find us a spot,” Dean said, slapping his brother on the shoulder. “I’ll buy us a round, and sign us up for trivia,” he added, making a bee line for the bar and dodging other patrons to get there.

Sam went to the opposite corner of the room, staking a claim where all exits were in view. He’d no more than sat on one of the wooden stools when there was a familiar voice in his ear.

“Shouldn’t you boys be out working the case,” Sheriff Reese commented, out of uniform wearing a faded Army t-shirt stretched over his physique. 

“Good to see you again, Sheriff,” Sam recovered, extending his hand and watching the lawman eye the invitation cautiously before he accepted. “Dean and I are working.”

The silent glare from the broad shouldered soldier made Sam shift in his seat, before he added. “We’ve learned the best way to scout out a town is to check out its night life.”

The sheriff nodded and looked around the bar at the people of his town. “Not much to do on a Friday here. Trivia tends to keep the kids out of trouble,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest. “You boys aren’t as inept as I thought,” he continued, looking at Sam. “Same reason I’m here, I suppose. See if anyone’s suspicious, or if there’s anyone new in town looking for trouble.”

“Exactly,” Sam agreed and noticed the sheriff’s gaze had fallen on Dean who was walking back toward them with 3 long neck bottles threaded in the fingers of his left hand. 

“Hey Sheriff,” Dean greeted with a loud smack of his free hand to the sheriff’s shoulder. He mouthed an “ow” to Sam before he handed the sheriff one of the bottles of beer. “You don’t have to drink it, just hold it so we don’t all look like a bunch of narcs,” Dean said, and Sam knew his brother had read the sheriff’s mind: they were technically on duty.

The sheriff nodded and accepted the drink, taking a long pull while Dean and Sam set theirs aside. “You boys are on duty. Not me,” he replied and tipped his long neck in Sam’s direction. “Stay out of trouble, Agents. I expect a call if you find anything suspect in my town,” he said and walked away to join a table full of his deputies who looked ready to play for the night.

“That girl Robin is here,” Dean pointed out, nodding toward the other end of the bar with his beer without trying to be obvious. “I think the bartender is her girlfriend. Only smile I’ve seen her give out was to her,” he stated and checked to see if the sheriff was looking before he sneaked a drink of his beer.

“At least that means the registrar’s office is empty so we shouldn’t have any trouble going there tonight.”

“But after trivia right?” Dean asked, concerned that Sam might make him leave early. “I mean, we need an alibi too, and being seen until closing time by the sheriff is a pretty good one.”

“Yes, after trivia. What did you name our team?”

“You’ll see,” Dean grinned and risked another drink before he and Sam started the casual inspection of all the patrons in the bar, waiting for trivia to start.

In the end, Dean’s knowledge of pop culture and classic rock and Sam’s knowledge of everything else led “the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show” to victory. Dean grinned from ear to ear as he accepted the gift card and imagined how many pies he could take back to the bunker with him while Sam frowned that they had learned nothing more from trivia night in this town than they knew before arriving. The only thing suspect was that there wasn’t anything suspicious. That kind of cookie cutter, cherry pie, Americana town made Sam nervous. There was always something hiding in the shadows of those towns, based on past experience, and he was ready to figure this out. As the bar started to close, Sam and Dean waved goodnight to the sheriff and headed for the Impala.


	9. Chapter 9

**Northwest Kansas Technical College  
Registrar’s Office  
Goodland, Kansas**

Dean made sure to drive toward the motel in the event they were followed from downtown, and then he used every evasive maneuver he knew to avoid being followed back to the registrar’s office at the college. On his approach to the campus, he killed the lights to the Impala and parked his ‘Baby’ within walking distance of the school to avoid being seen. He was picking up on Sam’s anxiety as the two walked closer to the row of buildings where the registrar’s office was housed. Sam looked over his shoulder for the third time, making Dean repeat the same action.

“What is with you? You’ve been weird since we left the bar,” Dean pointed out, stepping in line behind his brother. “There’s no way anyone followed us here.”

“I don’t know, Dean. Something about all this gives me the creeps. It’s a little… too quiet,” Sam responded, reaching into his jacket pocket for the tools he’d need to pick the lock once they reached the appropriate door. He and Dean moved through the shadows to avoid any unseen cameras and approached the administration building from the rear.

As Sam knelt to get a better look at the door to the building, Dean scouted for hidden danger, even looking toward the sky. The sliver of a new moon was covered by clouds that were rolling in, letting him know a storm was on its way. Dean knew it wasn’t tornado season in Kansas and that was at least of some comfort. “You’re right. It’s too quiet, Sam. Something… something isn’t right here.”

Sam felt more than saw Dean take a step away from the door, hand slowly reaching into his back holster for the pearl handled gun he kept there. With Dean on lookout, Sam knew he had time to pick the lock and gain them access to the building… and the sooner the better. He used his trusty hook pick, and made short work of the lock, hearing it click into place as a gust of wind rustled the earth behind him. He opened his mouth to let Dean know he was in, but before he could, his eyes caught sight of a terrifying reflection in the glass of the door – the gnarled face of the wraith, revealed! Sam wheeled around to defend himself, seeing that his brother was in a heap on the pavement in front of him and then Sam saw nothing more.


	10. Chapter 10

**Abandoned Fairground  
Near the Kansas/Colorado State Line  
Burlington, Colorado**

Sam’s head throbbed from his shoulders to the tip of every hair as he slowly climbed toward consciousness. “Sam… Sammy?” he heard his brother calling to him, hearing it from some distance even though the blurry images he could piece together as he gained clarity told him his brother wasn’t any more than ten feet away. “Sam, you okay??” he heard Dean ask and Sam groaned in answer.

“Always with the stupid questions,” Sam croaked, closing and opening his eyes multiple times to refocus his gaze. He was looking up at his captor… or was it captors? Knowing he couldn’t exactly trust his eyes right now, he turned to his brother. “How many of them are you seeing?”

“Two,” Dean answered, his own sight focused on the two figures hovering over Sam, a little too close for comfort.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath to regain his wits, before he stared up at the two faces in front of him. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out the face of the flirty grandma from the sheriff’s office, and the younger frozen face of the assistant from the registrar’s office. Cindy and Robin – not until they were side by side did Sam see the family resemblance.

Sam shifted against the ground, sliding his arms up the pole he was attached to in what looked like an abandoned stable. He was assessing his current situation, when Cindy grinned and ran a long finger along his jawline before she nimbly stepped away to admire her prize catch. “Nice of you to join us there, stretch. You all know my lovely daughter.”

“Charmed,” Dean grimaced, voice thick with sarcasm.

“Daughter, huh?” Sam responded, realizing at that moment he was handcuffed around a firmly attached piece of the structure. He was going to need more than a knife to get himself out of this one; he was going to need to stall for time and hope that his brother would do the same. He and Dean would also need a nail or a wire to break free… a wire… like the one he kept stitched into his jeans for just such an occasion, he thought as his mind finally cleared of the daze he’d been knocked into by one of the wraiths in front of him. “So the whole grandma persona is a ruse? No one ever suspects the old flirty granny?” he asked, shifting to better angle his hands to access the wire in his jeans.

“That’s right, tall drink. Those grandkids came with the frame,” Cindy cackled and Sam noticed the long wraith bone was starting to protrude from her wrist as she prepared to feast. “I pegged you for hunters the second your handsome brother walked into the precinct and when my daughter told me you’d stopped to see her too, we knew exactly what to expect from you. And here we are.”

“Yeah, you got us,” Dean concurred and Sam noticed a subtle movement that told him Dean had found a nail to help get him out of his cuffs. “We uh, we never suspected either of you. And we’re pretty good at this job.”

“Are you sure?” Robin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dean’s facial expression conceded the point to the younger of the supernatural creatures, but he persisted in his train of thought. “We’ve… we’ve been doing this a long time, and we’ve never known a wraith that could paralyze. Since you’re going to eat our brains anyway, I gotta know – what is that about? How do you paralyze your victims? You sons of bitches don’t normally go that route.”

The older wraith hissed through her teeth at Dean’s choice of words, but regained her composure. “Well, I suppose since you’ll be dead and even more useless to the world soon, it wouldn’t hurt to tell you. I ate a vetala a couple months ago, the day of that weird storm. I guess I absorbed her poison because ever since then, I could paralyze my prey… making the adrenaline response all the more delicious.”

“Weird storm?” Sam heard Dean ask, and the tone in his brother’s voice was tinted with guilt, knowing that weird storm had been caused by releasing the Darkness. 

Before either wraith could answer, Sam changed the subject. “So two college students and a vetala… is that all you’ve had the past year? You must be starving.”

“You have no idea,” Robin commented, her own wraith bone inching out to match her mother’s. “We tried to diet. We really did. Not a lot of meat on the brains of most of the folks in Goodland, made it a little less tempting. But when Casey came into the Registrar’s office to talk about dropping out, we couldn’t resist putting him out of his misery. He was… not delicious.”

“That bad, huh?” Sam asked, his nimble fingers manipulating the thick gauge wire out of the frame of his jean’s pocket.

“That boy was so dumb he couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the bottom,” the older creature scoffed.

“Wow… that’s… pretty dumb,” Dean agreed, his voice covering up the click of his handcuff coming loose.

“Yeah and his brain was like eating a rice cake, tasteless and full of air… but yours…oh, you boys will be like having a porter house steak and Maine lobster. I’m going to be sure to take my time with you and savor every morsel. And the best part is no one is going to miss you. You will have simply disappeared in the night to go back to Topeka for a case you thought was more important, with no one the wiser.”

Cindy took a step toward Sam, and Dean chose that as his moment. “Not today,” he charged, heaving himself upward toward the older wraith. The element of surprise worked in his favor with both wraiths momentarily stunned that the surf portion of their surf and turf dinner was mobile and on the offensive. In a move that was the result of years of experience on the job, Dean scooped low to retrieve the silver blade he had hidden in the sole of his boot. He lunged forward, ready to quarterback sack the first wraith he could reach, with the blade aimed directly at the flirty ‘grandma’s’ heart. The blade found its mark as her scream filled the abandoned structure. The shrillness of the sound caused Sam to flinch but not before his brother shouted, “Son of a bitch!”

Sam watched Dean crumple hard to the ground, falling with the dead body of the old wraith. Sam’s instincts kicked in and he scanned Dean for injury, seeing now that the wraith had nicked Dean’s forearm in the attack. The vetala venom worked quickly to take his older brother out of the fight, paralyzed from the neck down.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, his own handcuffs coming undone as the younger and more agile of the wraiths let out a blood curdling scream at the sight of her dead mother. 

The abnormally frosty female was on fire now, her rage evident in the flared nostrils and red flush of her skin. She lunged for Sam, but he narrowly avoided her in an attempt to get to Dean.

“A little help here,” the older Winchester croaked as Sam reached for his brother’s arm in the hopes of dragging him out of harm’s way until the second wraith could be killed. She was too quick though, knocking Sam away from Dean and across the room into the concrete block wall. Sam fell to the ground, conscious but unable to move as his body shut down to assess the damage of the pounding he’d taken.

With Dean face down on the ground, and Sam momentarily immobilized, Robin took a deep breath and calmly took a knee in front of Dean so he could see her face. “I’m going to make you watch me eat your brother so you’ll know the pain you’ve caused me right before I tear you to shreds,” she hissed and through her words, Dean could see the true face of the wraith inside.

She stood and made the slow determined walk toward Sam, wraith bone ready to drink, with Sam still unable to move. His adrenaline response picked up the closer she came, and as he felt himself ready to move, he caught a glimpse of something or someone behind the wraith. After taking such a hard hit, Sam couldn’t be sure he’d seen anything at all, but his hunter senses told him to trust his instincts. If his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, he needed to move and to get the wraith back toward Dean.

He faked his inability to move until the last possible second, when once again, the element of surprise worked in the Winchester’s favor. He kicked out at the wraith with his long leg, making sharp contact with her knee before he whirled himself upward and ducked away from her advance. 

The agility of the wraith had her on his heels before he’d even reached Dean but that’s when he heard “Sam! Left!”

He didn’t ask questions and reacted to the order, stepping left a fraction of a second before a silver blade hurled past his shoulder, and landed with a resounding thud in the chest cavity of a now dying wraith.

Robin’s stunned expression as she fell forward told Sam everything he needed to know about his decision to trust his instincts – he’d made a good one. He turned around to see Shelby in the shadows, slipping quietly back into the darkness. She caught his eye and sent him a smile with a wink before she slipped away completely, likely on her way out of town. At least now Sam knew why he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that someone was following him and Dean. Someone obviously was, and thankfully, she was on their side.

He wasn’t going to admit it, but he hated to see Shelby go. Aside from the obvious reasons, he knew the list of allies he and Dean could count on these days were few and far between. People around them tended to end up dead, he thought with a pang of regret and deep sorrow for all the fallen hunters he and Dean had bid farewell. Sam couldn’t think about that any longer though. He had to get Dean out of this building, and with two bodies now in this old stable, Sam was going to have to clean up a mess.

“Was that Shelby?” Dean asked, his words slurred as Sam maneuvered his brother’s body over his shoulder – situating him fireman style to carry him outside the structure.

“Yeah. That was Shelby,” Sam answered, struggling with the words under his brother’s dead weight.

“Looks like you having sex finally saved the day,” Dean muttered, laughter in his voice despite his paralysis.

“I will drop you like you dropped third period French, Dean, I swear to God,” Sam grunted, seeing the Impala parked in the tree line. He took a moment to be thankful the wraiths had the foresight to bring the car to make it easier for Agent Nicks and Agent Joplin to “disappear” while Dean continued to laugh at the thoughts he was having and Sam let it slide. After all, Dean was paralyzed temporarily so at least he was finding humor in the situation.

He deposited Dean carefully into the backseat of the Impala, and then used his cell phone to figure out the exact location of where they were – an abandoned fairground. Once he determined they were half an hour away from Goodland, he called Sheriff Reese to let him know he found the murderers. He’d come up with a non-supernatural story to tell the sheriff when he arrived, especially since one of the bodies belonged to the police department office manager, but until then, he left Dean in the car and went to clean up any hunter-related evidence in the stable.

The entire Goodland police force must have emptied judging by the number of vehicles that arrived exactly when Sam anticipated. He’d disposed of the wraith bones, and cleaned up any prints Shelby left on the dagger so he and Dean could take credit for the catch to keep her out of the story. He informed the sheriff the two female suspects were high on bath salts and thought they were zombies who needed brains. Why not? That same story had been in the news a couple of times the past year and it seemed as likely a scenario as any. He gave as much information as he dared, but the first moment he had a chance, Sam ducked away from all the questions to get back to his older brother recovering in the car. He’d found the keys in the older wraiths pocket, so he was able to quickly fire up the engine and maneuvered the Impala back onto the highway. The only stop he made was to clean out the motel room, gathering his and Dean’s things in Goodland, before he pointed the car in an eastward direction heading for the bunker.


	11. Chapter 11

**On the Road  
Heading East to the Men of Letters’ Bunker**

The Impala lights were the only lights to be seen on the highway, given the hour of night and the generally unpopulated area of Kansas where he was driving. Sam had been alone with his thoughts for most of the trip while Dean slept off the vetala venom. That was easier than being consciously aware of an inability to move your limbs. While Dean slept, Sam considered the past two days. He thought about the easy rhythm he and his brother had found the past couple of months since Dean had been free of the Mark. Yes, there was a whole crap storm of things they had to answer for in the aftermath – God’s pain in the ass sister being the chief calamity of the hour – but they were dealing with it. He couldn’t remember when they’d been able to have fun while on a case. And he did have fun playing trivia with his brother. It had been a long time since they’d had to con a bunch of students out of money. He almost missed those days. 

Sam also couldn’t remember the last time he and his brother were this honest with each other about what was happening. Hell, he wasn’t sure they’d ever been. That honesty reminded Sam of the words Dean had thrown back in his face about being with someone who understood the life, and that made him think about Shelby. The most intriguing part about her was that she existed. How had he and Dean never met her before this? He certainly would have remembered her, he was sure of that. He couldn’t even remember hearing of her in the usual hunter circles. Well, he hadn’t exactly asked for her last name so maybe that explained some of the mystery. Hunters did tend to refer to each other by surname. Damn, he hoped he ran into her again to at least get that name… and maybe her number. It wouldn’t kill Sam to have a little fun from time to time. He was a red-blooded male after all, even though he hid it better most of the time than his brother.

Sam was distracted from his memories of Shelby in that towel walking out of the motel room by the shifting of the body in the backseat.

“We didn’t get to use the gift card for pie,” Dean croaked, his voice thick with sleep. Sam had to laugh at the words that broke the silence he’d enjoyed. Only his brother would be sleeping off paralysis and dreaming of pie.

“It’s three hours away, Dean. I’m sure we can sneak back there to get you some pie,” Sam consoled his brother as he watched him through the rearview mirror. “How you feeling?”

“Peachy,” Dean groaned, visibly mustering the strength to attempt to sit. His limbs were still heavy with numbness, but they were prickling with the pins and needles associated with muscles coming awake. He used the momentum from his weight, and the slope of the backseat to shimmy himself to an upright position. But Sam had seen none of it. A text message on his phone distracted him, wondering who the hell could be messaging him at this hour since Dean was in the backseat.

Dean was able to sit upright in time to catch a glimpse of Sam’s face smiling in the rearview mirror. “What’s that about?” he asked trying to stay balanced in his current position.

Sam looked up from his phone and met Dean’s eyes in the mirror before he focused back on the road. “It’s from Shelby,” he answered, and held up his phone knowing full well Dean couldn’t read the message from where he sat and he couldn’t lean forward to get a better look.

“I thought you didn’t exchange numbers.”

“We didn’t.”

“Oh she's good. She's really good," Dean chuckled, flopping a heavy hand onto his brother’s shoulder from behind him. The hand slid back over the seat without enough strength in it yet to hold its position. “This will be fun to watch,” he beamed turning his head to look out the window. “Sammy and Shelby sitting in a tree…” 

“You are such a jerk,” Sam laughed, meeting his brother’s eyes again in the mirror.

"Deal with it, bitch,” Dean replied before he decided it was much easier to lie back down than it was to sit. He let his body slide onto the backseat, closing his eyes with a smile on his face that Sam couldn’t see.

But Sam knew his brother was smiling, and quite frankly, so was he. He wasn’t sure why but he was feeling more hopeful than he had in a while… about everything. He and Dean had been through so much already, what was one more apocalyptic event? Sam knew in his heart he and Dean would find a way to defeat the Darkness. And when they did, he may just give Shelby a call.

He read the words she’d written across his screen again, committing her number to memory. "For next time. -Shelby"

“Next time. Yeah. What the hell?” he thought, still smiling.


End file.
